


Quenched

by JenTheSnarryShipper



Series: Quenched [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Snarry - Fandom
Genre: M/M, snarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenTheSnarryShipper/pseuds/JenTheSnarryShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape finds Harry in an interesting situation, years after the war-is Snape's life at stake? Or will these two find something more than fear by meeting again? Vampire Snarry (Snape/Harry, SS/HP) fanfic, rated Explicit (for the later chapters to come). I own none of the characters: they belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros Entertainment. I love reviews, so please leave one! Thank you and remember to follow. EXPLICIT WARNING!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Quenched **

* * *

 

He couldn’t believe his eyes.  Merlin, who _would_?

 

Who would believe _this_?

 

Harry stood wide eyed, his mouth agape.  He clenched both his fists in balls, cold and trembling.

 

“I…I’m sorry…I…”  The twenty-five year old babbled on.

 

Severus Snape couldn’t move.  He couldn’t breathe.

 

It wasn’t because he was frightened—no, he was incapable of being afraid of Harry James Potter.  He’d saved his bloody arse too many times for that. 

 

Nevertheless, as he stood across from the boy—no, the _man_ —he corrected mentally…it seemed that there was no emotion to describe what he was feeling. 

 

He wondered why he always ended up in peculiar situations, yes indeed, that was certain.  But _this_ one with Potter was on another level of absurdly.  And _why_ was Potter always involved whenever trouble came about?

 

Snape had no time to ponder anything else—his head was spinning already, and his mouth felt dry as he gazed upon the floor.  His eyes were drawn to the large dead rabbit, with blood stains on its neck.

 

He looked back up at Harry—whose gaze was so boyish, so innocent, as if he hadn’t just sucked the life out of a healthy living creature. 

 

Snape’s gaze pierced Potter’s—and Snape noticed that Harry’s lips were quivering as if he were that sixteen-year-old he once knew quite well—but neither men knew what to say.

 

Potter, dressed in all black—a worn leather jacket and unkempt black denim pants—stepped closer.  Snape fought himself not to step back.  He almost did.

 

The silence was deafening. 

 

“ _How_?”  Snape rasped, hardly even sounding like himself.  Potter jumped at the roughness of Snape’s voice, and at his question. 

 

“I…when I was an Auror.”  Harry said, continuing softly, “No one…erm…knows.  I killed him, after he…”  He trailed, looking off to the side.  _Ashamed to meet my gaze?_  Snape pondered, truly baffled.  Had the boy— _man_ —forgotten that he’d followed the Dark Lord himself? 

 

He waited to finish Potter’s sentence until he looked up again. 

 

“…After he turned you.”  Snape finally finished, without malice.  Potter appeared as surprised as Snape at how genuine the older wizard sounded. 

 

Potter’s eyes appeared shiny from afar.  He nodded.  “I—I don’t want to be like this…”  He looked away from Snape again, rubbing his left cheek with his sleeve.

 

Snape had no idea what to do, let alone _say_.  He just witnessed a vampire killing an animal.  _The Boy Who Lived, dead among the living?_   He thought, dripping with irony and sadness.

 

He could think of only one thing to ask, before continuing.

 

“Have you ever—”

 

Harry cut him off.  “No, of course not.”  He sniffed.  “I…survive from animals.”

 

Snape gulped inaudibly.  Potter just fed, so perhaps there would be no temptation for his instincts to override his willpower…

 

“Look—I know what I am, okay?  I know I’m a monster.  Even more of a freak than I already was.”  Potter snapped with anger.

 

Snape furrowed his brows.  _Surely he has more confidence than this…since he himself defeated the Dark Lord?_

 

But as Snape looked into that emerald gaze before him, he saw a scared young man trying to hold himself together.

 

And it was in that moment in which he was reminded so much of himself—a reflection.

 

Snape gulped and stepped closer.

 

“I can help you.”  _I must help you._   He thought, silently wishing that someone would have helped _him_ all those years ago—before he had gotten the dark mark.

 

No, he would not let this continue.  Not with Harry.

 

Potter shook his head.  “I deserve this.  I _deserve_ to be cursed, Professor.”

 

Snape could hardly believe this was, in fact, the same Harry Potter who defeated the Dark Lord—and who had saved Snape’s life, at that.  If he hadn’t healed his wounds with the blood-replenishing and poison-reducing potions, which were admittedly _excellent_ batches—they had to be if they were to work with Nagini’s poison in his bloodstream, Snape wouldn’t be standing here.

 

 _And yet…he thinks he is unworthy of assistance?_ Snape thought, _He certainly doesn’t believe he’s above anyone…_

“I don’t deserve your help.”  Harry muttered, hanging his head low.  “Besides, you’ve already saved my pointless life…Merlin knows how many times.”

 

 _Is he insane?_  

 

“Potter, don’t be ridiculous!”  Snape snapped at him.  “I admit, you and I have a…long history of… _disliking_ each other—” He was cut off by Harry’s loud snort, though he ignored it.  “…But I know you well enough, Potter.” 

 

Harry snapped his head up to look at him again with a confused look on his face.  _I suppose that’s true,_ he thought.

 

Snape continued, “I believe, like most traumatic incidences in your life, that this experience was not your fault.”

 

Harry gasped.  “You do?”

 

Snape raised an eyebrow.  “Am I wrong?”

 

Harry shook his head vigorously, “No!  No, but—”

 

“Contrary to what you might believe about _me_ ,” Snape gestured, “I may be a cruel man, and a dark wizard at that, but I refuse to let…”  He paused, a little put-off by Harry’s facial expression.  The boy was _smiling_.  “…I refuse to let my _emotions_ to get in the way of my opinion of someone.  Even you.”  He muttered the last bit.

 

 _Does he…care this much?_   Harry questioned in his mind.  He stared intently into that obsidian gaze.

 

“What is it, Potter?”  He sneered.

 

Harry shook his head to clear it.  “Nothing!  I mean…it’s a little shocking, is all.  I…erm—I can tell you’re serious.”

 

Snape’s face tightened.  “Good.”  He let out a sigh.  He was glad he didn’t have to explain further.

 

Harry cocked his head to the side.  “So…there’s a…cure?  A potion, maybe.”

 

Snape shook his head wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Not yet.”

 

Harry looked deep in thought, slowly looking up at the man again.  “Y’mean…you would…do that for _me_?”  He sputtered, “You’d develop a cure?”

 

Snape sighed in agitation.  “Yes.”  _I forgot how damned frustrating he is._   Snape rolled his eyes.

 

Harry broke Snape’s thoughts, “It’d never work.”  He muttered lowly.

 

Snape stepped closer.  “I cannot make promises I cannot keep, Potter, but if there _is_ a chance...” he trailed.

 

Harry had a gleam in his eyes.  “I—I have no idea what to say.”  He smiled.  “You…erm…”  He blushed but turned away and cleared his throat.  “I mean, thank you.  It’s just…”  His face looked troubled.

 

“Just _what_ , Potter?”

 

Harry sighed.  “I’m always on the move.  There’s no way to contact or find me…and if I haven’t fed…I don’t want to be tempted to hurt you, if you _do_ happen to find me, I mean…”  He looked ashamed again.

 

Snape nodded.  He figured Potter would say something along those lines.  “All right.  You may stay with me, in my quarters at Hogwarts.”  He said without emotion.

 

“ _What?_ ”  Harry blurted loudly.  He couldn’t help it.  _Snape wants me to live with him??_

 

“You’d let me…”  Harry trailed.

 

“It would be safest this way.  I could even perform blood transfusions from animals, so you can feed.  I assume that once you’ve fed, you won’t be tempted for a few days time?”  He was genuinely curious.

 

Harry nodded, still in disbelief.  “Five days is my limit, after I’ve had…a couple of rabbits.  Before I start to lose my sanity.  I’ve always managed to isolate myself—find a forest with animals, but no people.” 

 

Snape nodded.  “I realize I am most possibly the last person you’d want to live with—”

 

“I accept your offer!”  Harry interjected, cutting him off. 

 

Snape closed his mouth in surprise.  Harry blushed.  “I trust you.”  He added quickly.

 

Snape raised an eyebrow and nodded curtly.  “Alright then, Potter.  Grab my arm.”  He held out his arm to Harry.

 

Harry walked toward him.  Snape finally could see him clearly—he truly did appear pale.  It made his green eyes look striking against his skin.  He watched Harry’s Adam’s Apple bob in the moonlight—the boy’s forehead was sheen from sweat, and there were a couple of obvious tear-streak-stains underneath his eyes.  But when he looked at his mouth…there were no visible fangs.  _Perhaps they retract?_   Snape wondered silently.

 

Harry was tentative in his movements, as if he were afraid of losing control.  _Ironic,_ Harry thought, almost sniggering aloud, _I’m worried about hurting the man I once hated…I wonder if he still hates me?_

Harry eyed the man—still tall, dressed in an all-black robe with a million tiny buttons.

 

The question, _Do you still hate me,_ felt so loud in Harry’s mind, Snape might have even heard him— _he was always reading my mind for Dumbledore…_

 

Harry pinched his eyes shut, stopping himself from thinking that far back.  He couldn’t.  Every time he did, all he could think about was how many people died for him…

 

Needless to say, he hardly rested.

 

He sighed aloud, muttering underneath his breath.

 

“Potter?”  Snape said, feeling concerned.  It was so _strange_ to feel concerned over Potter—it was something he hadn’t felt since the war.

 

He looked up, his green eyes piercingly bright.  “Why are you helping me, Professor?”

 

Snape let out a breath.  “Just come with me, Potter.  At some point, you’re bound to make a mistake—one you can’t take back.”  Harry eyed him suspiciously in response.  Snape paused, then continued, “I’d rather not let that happen to you.”

 

Harry paused, a bit stunned.  _I’d rather not let that happen to you._  

 

It rung in his ears, over and over, causing a wave of emotion to ripple through his body.  He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt…different.  _Then again,_ he thought, _I haven’t been around anyone for so long…_

 

 _Yeah,_ he reasoned, _that has to be it._

 

He finally felt himself stepping forward, holding his breath before shakily touching Snape’s black-sleeved arm.  Snape didn’t move as Harry grabbed on more tightly.  Snape didn’t seem to notice Harry’s pink-tinged face in the darkness as he wrapped his arm around Snape’s well-toned one.  Snape was simply glad the boy finally came to his senses.  _The last thing he needs is more publicity._   He could see the headlines already: The Boy Who Lived, now a Bloodthirsty Vampire.

 

Snape shook his head clear of his thoughts, and apparated them in front of Hogwarts’ gates—the closest they could travel, since no one has the ability to apparate into Hogwarts.

 

The walked at a somewhat quick pace into the castle.  Snape didn’t say anything about Potter clasping his arm on the way to his quarters, but it _did_ seem strange that he didn’t let go after apparating.

 

He let the thought go, and the two men carried on in silence.


	2. Quenched: Chapter Two

**Quenched: Chapter Two**

Snape transfigured the black couch into a bed.  Harry shakily let go of his professor’s arm, finally. 

 

Snape turned to Harry and began, “I believe it is best that we wait to discuss—” 

 

Harry cut him off with watery eyes, “I couldn’t agree more, Sir!”  He grabbed hold of his old Potion Professor’s right hand, shaking it, “Thank you Sir—you have no idea how much this means to me—no one has helped me, and—”

 

Snape cocked an eyebrow at the man.  His hand was of natural body temperature, to his surprise.  All other literature suggested that vampires were colder than humans.

 

That was as far as his thoughts could go.  No one had touched Snape for ages—he couldn’t remember the last time that someone besides Dumbledore _wanted_ to shake his hand.

 

And Potter _insisted_ on touching him, it seemed.  Snape snorted inwardly.  “Potter, let me stop you there.”  He held up his other hand.  Harry stole his right hand away from Snape’s.

 

Before he could say anything, Snape started again.  “First off, you do not need to call me ‘Sir’ anymore.  I am not your teacher.  You may call me Severus.”

 

Harry felt his lips curl into a smile.  “And you’ll call me Harry, then?  Not _Potter_?”  He mimicked sarcastically.

 

Snape rolled his eyes.  “You’re lucky I can no longer take house points from you.  I…suppose I could call you by your given name…Harry.”

 

Harry didn’t know why, but he felt funny after Snape… _Severus_...called him by his first name.  “Erm…alright.  Sev-Severus?”  He felt his voice shaking.  Snape cocked an eyebrow, so he continued, “Why is it that you _do_ want to help me?  It’s just…no offense, but you’re the last person I’d have thought of to…to…”

 

Snape finished for him, “To mind about your wellbeing?”  Harry nodded, noticing he didn’t use the word ‘care.’

 

Snape sighed, “Potter, I cannot keep—”

 

“Harry!”  He meekly interjected.

 

Snape rolled his eyes.  “ _Harry_.  I will not explain this to you again.  I swore to myself, after your mother…Lily…passed, that I would protect you.  I realize that the Dark Lord is gone, thank Merlin, and that you are no longer a schoolboy.  However,” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that does not mean I want this…outcome for you.”  _I should have known that protecting the boy would be a lifetime job._   He thought tiredly.

 

Harry nodded once, gulping.  “I’m—”

 

Snape interrupted him, “I will not accept an apology from you, Pot-Harry.”  _Dear Merlin, this might be more difficult than I thought…_ “This was not _your_ fault, but rather, some other hungry beast of a creature.”

 

Harry looked down, feeling like he was being lectured in school again.  He sighed heavily.  “Alright.”

 

“Good.”  Snape turned away from him, walking to his room.  Before he entered, he told Harry, “As planned, we will talk more soon.  The kitchen is there,” he directed with his hand, “and the bathroom is there,” he moved his hand again.

 

Harry nodded, chuckling slightly.  “Thanks, though I won’t need anything from the kitchen.”

 

Snape mentally slapped himself.  He cursed under his breath and continued, “ _This_ is my room, P-Harry.  Only in an emergency should you barge in, otherwise, knock first.  I should wake around 7AM.  Make yourself comfortable, and…try to get some sleep.”  _Do vampires sleep?_   He thought.

 

Harry smiled, sitting down on the comfy bed.  “Don’t worry, Severus.  I’ll respect your privacy and your home.  I’m just glad to be here.”

 

Severus gave a curt nod and shut the door behind him.  _The boy is going to kill me._   He thought, rubbing his temples.

 

Harry bounced a little on the bed.  He hadn’t slept on a bed in…two months? 

 

He put his hand over his mouth and yawned.  Quickly, he reached for his wand, transfiguring his clothes into a red nightshirt and long, soft pants.  He fluffed the pillow and used wandless magic to turn off the lights, “ _Nox_.”

 

His mind was racing.  He kept thinking of the shock on Snape’s face after seeing him…what he must _think_ of him…

 

He closed his eyes, trying to hold it together.  _At least I know he doesn’t hate me._   He smiled, thinking back to when they apparated.  _No—or else he wouldn’t have asked me to grab his arm…_

 

His mind drifted onto happy thoughts, and for the first time in weeks, he felt at ease whilst in a deep sleep.


	3. Quenched: Chapter Three

**_Quenched: Chapter Three_ **

 

Harry awoke to the sound of a hissing kettle.  He sleepily grabbed for his glasses, casting Tempus.  _Noon._

 

He shot straight up at the time, looking over to Snape, who was pouring hot water into two teacups.

 

Snape, who was dressed in a black button-up and pants, walked over carefully.  He set down some tea on the side-table closest to Harry.

 

“Thank you,” Harry said, his voice a little gruff.  “Gods.  Can’t believe I slept so long.”

 

Snape sat upon the chair across from Harry. 

 

He sipped his tea, and then casually said, “It is to be expected.” 

 

Though he looked nonchalant, his thoughts were racing at last night’s charade.  The conversations they had about Lily—about the very potential of Harry Potter’s life—the life Severus spent _years_ saving.  Yes, on the outside, he could still succeed as a spy.

 

As good as he was at it, it didn’t matter.  Not in front of Harry.  The younger wizard saw straight through it.  But he didn’t have the heart to tell the man—it would’ve done no good anyway, Harry told himself.

 

Harry smoothed back his hair, which ultimately did no good.  “What do you mean by that?”

 

Snape began, “How many nights has it been since you’ve been able to sleep fully?”

 

Harry lightly blushed pink, “Oh.  Right.”  He cursed himself very quietly, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.  He didn’t know why he was hot in the face all of a sudden. 

 

_Maybe I’m just embarrassed,_ Harry thought while rubbing his eyes, _that would explain my jitters last night…and today._   Hell, he hardly even _heard_ about Snape after the war, let alone saw him!  Harry sighed and put his glasses straight.

 

“Indeed.”  Snape quirked one eyebrow and quietly sipped at his warm tea.  “How are you feeling, Mister Potter?” 

 

_Such peculiar behavior,_ Severus thought, watching the man’s cheeks turn from pink to their natural color.  He wondered how vampires could actually blush at all—as if blood could rush to the cheeks. 

 

The younger sighed, correcting him, “Harry.  And…I don’t know, honestly.  Relieved to share this secret with…someone.”  He sipped his tea—it was a mix of chamomile and ginseng.  “Anyone,” he muttered to the cup he was holding, watching the tea steam.

 

“Even if it _is_ with someone you…dislike?”  He sipped his tea again, waiting for Harry’s response.

 

Harry choked, but swallowed quickly.  “No—Severus, no!  How could I dislike you?”  Harry’s green eyes grew wide as he leaned onto the table.

 

Snape scoffed, “You’re joking.”

 

Harry shook his head.  “No…I am not joking.  Look—I admit that you weren’t exactly my favorite person during the war.  But I thought…I thought you weren’t on our side.  Dumbledore explained the whole thing to me, about how many times you’ve saved my life.”  He got quiet at the end, looking away.

 

Snape was floored.  He expected Harry to say something like ‘let’s just get on with finding the cure,’ but instead…

He looked at the table and thought about what to say.  Finally, he looked up at Harry’s big green eyes—which was a bad idea, because they were quite distracting.  He couldn’t say why—it was just something about how expressive it made the younger wizard look—so much more than when he was in school, clouded with nightmares of Voldemort and death. 

 

But he put that aside, deciding never to think about Potter’s expressive eyes again.  _What a pointless thought._

 

“I do not deserve that kind of recognition, Harry.  Nevertheless…I have to say that I am quite surprised.” He stopped there, watching Harry’s reaction.  He thought about using Legilimens to read his thoughts to see if he was lying, _But…not now_ , he decided, _not when he’s so vulnerable._

 

Harry ruffled a hand through his hair.  “Well…yeah.  I’m not a kid anymore, you know?  You deserve much more than me, Professor—I mean, Severus.  I have to ask,” Harry licked his lips out of habit, “do you _really_ not dislike me?”

 

Snape pinched his eyes shut, “I thought we went over this.”  He opened his eyes to those big green ones he swore he wouldn’t think about, but this time Potter was leaning in closer, and it wasn’t his fault that they were so mesmerizing.  Potter looked curious as a kitten, head cocked to the side, as Severus continued speaking.  “How can I convince you?  I want to help you, Harry.  I don’t dislike you.”  _I just don’t know you._   He thought, but ignored it.

 

Harry watched him carefully, and nodded.  “Okay.  I had to make sure, you know.  No one ever wants to help me without…getting something in return.”  He shifted in his seat, obviously trying to shake off the thought.

 

Snape decided to ignore it for the time being.  “Well,” he set down his tea, “while I admit there is much to discuss, I must ask that you stay here for a few hours.  I must speak with Minerva—”

 

Harry perked up, “Professor McGonagall!”

 

The older wizard couldn’t help but smirk at the corner of his mouth, “—and I shall tell her about this situation I have with you at the moment.  She is the only one I trust.”

 

Harry smiled.  _Damn the boy_ , Snape thought.   _Why did I just think that?_  His thoughts were really confusing him! 

 

“Uhm,” Harry dropped his smile, “I suppose you’ll…want to tie me up, then?” 

 

Snape’s mouth dropped open slightly, and his eyes went wide.  “I beg your pardon?”

 

Harry blushed crimson, though he wasn’t sure why he was so embarrassed.  It was a valid question.  He was a Vampire—perhaps Snape didn’t trust him, since he just told him he only trusted McGonagall. 

 

Snape quickly realized what he meant.  “Oh!  No—that will not be necessary.  If you…get hungry…you may tell one of the house elves.  They will fetch you a rabbit.”  He turned around to the fireplace, reaching for the floo powder.

 

“Severus,” He heard Harry suddenly behind him, scaring him half to death.  But then Harry put his hand on his shoulder when he didn’t turn around, and everything in his mind faded. 

 

“You have no idea how much this means.”  Harry said, with his big green eyes in front of Severus. 

 

Severus, who was not sure how to respond, tried, “It has been a while since I have had company, Harry.  So far it has not been…unpleasant.” 

 

That deep and rich voice washed over Harry in calming waves.  Before thinking about it, Potter wrapped his arms around his former Professor and held him.

 

Snape let out an audible gasp.  “Harry?”  He didn’t even recognize his own voice.

 

But the younger wizard didn’t say anything—he just hugged him for a few moments, then let go.

 

When Snape shakily unwrapped his arms around Harry, he noticed that the boy had that rosy tint again.  “I will be back soon.  Tell the house elves if you need me.”  And with that, Snape turned to the floo, headed straight for McGonagall’s office.

 

And he _certainly_ wasn’t thinking about Harry’s eyes.


	4. Quenched: Chapter Four

**Quenched: Chapter Four**

 

Minerva McGonagall was petting her cat, reading the Daily Prophet, when she heard flames from the fireplace. 

Severus Snape stood there, whisking off the ashes.  “You really should clean your floo, Minerva.”

 

She smiled at him, “Severus!  Yes, yes, I know.  Would you like some tea?  I just made this new—”

 

Severus held a hand up, cutting her off, with a pained look on his face.  “I’m sorry Minerva—I have some…interesting news.” 

 

She looked at him with big eyes, taking off her spectacles.  “Oh Merlin—what is it, Severus?” 

 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes pinched shut.  “It’s...Potter.”  The name clawed itself out of his mouth.

 

She jumped a little, obviously startled.  “ _Harry_ Potter?  Harry Potter is here?  Is he in trouble?”  She held her breath, “It isn’t…it isn’t…You Know Who?”

 

Snape couldn’t help but laugh once at her assumption.  “No, Minerva.  Far from that—he’s long gone.  This is different—yes, Harry resides in my quarters as we speak.  Minerva,” he paused, coming closer, “what I am about to tell you, you must not tell another soul.”

 

She cast a silencing charm immediately.  “You have my word, Severus.  Now just tell me what the bloody hell is going on before I have a heart attack.”

 

Snape turned his back to her, “There has been an incident…that Potter was involved in.  When he was an Auror, he had an encounter with…a vampire.”  He turned back at her.  She appeared calm, with her arms crossed.

 

Snape continued, “This vampire—somehow—managed to…to turn him.”  He looked at her facial expression.  She seemed confused.

 

Her voice was a whisper, “But how—”

 

“I found him feeding from a rabbit.  Completely isolated.”  He explained in his normal tone.  “It was a route I usually take—as you already know.  The Ministry wants an excuse for me as close to Azkaban as they can manage, even after my trials.”  He let out a breath tiredly, “Of course, Potter would know nothing of my whereabouts.  I simply…caught him where I thought no one would be.”

 

She stood there, stunned.  “If this is true—”

 

“It is true, Minerva.”  He said sternly.  “And he’s barely been scraping by.  Living off of rabbits, for Merlin’s sake!”

 

She looked as pale as Harry when she said, “But…how could he live off of rabbits, Severus?  Vampires need human blood, do they not?”

 

Severus furrowed his brow, “Not necessarily.  He has never drank from a human, nor has he been fed human blood.  However, if a vampire has drank from a human once…it is almost impossible for them to stop themselves from draining another.”  He lost his voice at the end.

 

She cleared her throat and sat down.  “Oh sweet Merlin.  Thank heavens you found him!  You did the right thing, Severus.  Although, I must say I am surprised that you wanted to help him, after all these years.  You could just as easily have…”  She trailed off.

 

“Have what?”  He breathed, “Left him there?  No—I may be a cruel man, Minerva, but I am no fool.  Harry did not ask for this…and I will find a cure for him.”  He said darkly, looking into her eyes.

 

Her brows shot up, “A cure?  For vampirism?”

 

He nodded, “Indeed.  In the meantime, he shall stay in my quarters, feeding off of…rabbits.”  He seethed the last word in disgust.

 

She stood again, “But Severus, _how_ will you develop this cure?  Surely you have your doubts!”  She seemed concerned, which Snape understood.

 

He nodded, “I would be a fool _not_ to have doubts, Minerva.  But I assure you—I will find a way to cure Potter.  He cannot live like this.”  _Not after all I’ve done_ , he thought silently, looking to the side.

 

McGonagall wore an interested look.  “I believe you.  If you need help, I will be at your assistance—as you already know.  But…Severus?”

 

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Is there…something else you wish to tell me?”  She asked, unsuccessful in masking her concern.

 

He shook his head once, turning to the fireplace.  “No.  There is not.”

 

~~HP/SS~~


	5. Chapter Five

 

**Chapter Five: Quenched**

 

Harry put his hands in his pockets.  He sighed of relief—he finally had a moment to himself.  He needed to think.

 

His mind felt clearer than ever, now that he’d gotten a full night’s sleep.  But…there was something bothering him.  Other than the obvious issue, that he was a cold-blooded vampire, he felt disoriented.

 

He plopped himself down on Severus’ onyx-colored couch.  Mindlessly, he traced a deeply rooted scratch mark on one of the cushions.  _Wonder what this was from…_

 

His eyes darted suddenly to Snape’s bedroom door.

 

It was cracked open.

 

Harry bit his lip.  He didn’t want to break the trust that was developing between he and the Potions Master…but he knew he was alone.  It had only been a minute or two since the man left, after all. 

 

He let out a breath and stood up.  Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward.  Snape never had to know.  He _was_ genuinely curious about the man, after all.  It wasn’t a malicious act.

 

He just wanted to see his bedroom.  Was that so wrong?

 

Harry mumbled to himself, “What am I doing?” underneath his breath as he felt the wood door on his fingertips.  He nudged it forward, letting his eyes take in the full sight of the room.

 

It was…nothing out of the ordinary.  The bedsheets were black, _big surprise_ , Harry thought.  The floors were carpeted an ivory color, and there was a bathroom in the corner.

 

He took a deep breath, looked behind him— _no one there_ —and went forward.  He stopped at the nightstand next to the bed.  He let curiosity get the best of him and opened a drawer…then he closed it.

 

This didn’t feel right.

 

He quickly walked out of the room and cracked it open like it was before.

 

Harry knew he shouldn’t be snooping.  He owed the man his life—a dozen times over.  He went over to the couch and sat down. 

 

Why _did_ he want to know more about Snape, anyway?  _Well…the man is mysterious.  He probably—_

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of Snape’s floo.  Harry perked up and looked at the older wizard. 

 

In that split second—he had to admit it to himself—he was so captivated by his appearance.  He always had been, really, with the man dressed like that.  _All black robes…all the time.  He must know it matches his eyes and his hair._   Harry thought quickly, _not that it means anything._

 

He blushed slightly, cursing himself mentally.  He would _not_ admit anything else.  Not now—not ever.

 

Snape strode over to Harry.  “Harry.  I have spoken with Minerva…and she agrees that we must work together in solving a cure for you.”  Harry looked up, ignoring the shiver he got just from listening to that voice. 

 

Snape seemed genuine.  Harry sighed, “Look…I know that you want to help me.  But maybe…this was my destiny.  Maybe I’ve fulfilled it, you know?”

 

Snape raised an eyebrow, “Come again?”  He sat down on the couch next to Harry—but a distance away from him, still.

 

“Oh—uh, I mean…defeating Voldemort.  Maybe that was my destiny, and now…” he trailed off, biting his lip, looking at the ground.  “It’s just that…I have no family.  My friends have lives of their own now.”  _I have no purpose._

 

He met Snape’s gaze.  Snape was frowning slightly, his eyes concerned.  He waited for Harry to continue.

 

“Maybe this is how I’m meant to be, until I die.  Alone.”  He mumbled the last word, trying not to form tears in his eyes.

 

Snape watched the younger wizard tremble slightly.  This was _not_ the cocky Harry Potter he remembered in his classes.  This man was entirely different.

 

He laid his hand on Harry’s knee.  Potter looked up at him with watery eyes. 

 

“This is not the end for you, Harry.  You were not meant to defeat Him, and then just…give up.”  Snape said softly, trying to remain calm.  He was really quite shocked by Harry’s demeanor.  It was as if he’d never met this Harry before—as if he knew nothing about him.

 

Perhaps, even after all these years…he didn’t.

 

Harry scoffed, “But there’s no cure, Snape.  We’re not going to find one and even if we could, I still have nothing to live for!”  He blinked, looking away with tears coming down his cheeks.  “I don’t want you to waste your life trying to save me.”  He said in such a low tone, Snape was almost sure he misheard him.

 

“ _What?_ ”  Snape balked, removing his hand from Harry’s knee out of shock. 

 

“You heard me,” Harry whispered.  “You have people who care about you—people I’m keeping you from.” 

 

Snape suppressed his snort.  He hadn’t had a partner for decades, and his family was dead, not that they mattered anyway. 

 

Harry looked down, away from Snape.  “Don’t tell me you actually _like_ saving me.  Haven’t I wasted enough of your time?”

 

Harry wandlessly summoned a tissue to wipe his face, then balled it up in his hands.  “If you kill me, then I can be with my parents.”  He finally looked back into Snape’s onyx eyes.  

 

“No,” Snape said firmly—immediately.  Harry’s eyes widened.

 

“Harry…I don’t have friends, save Minerva.  My family is dead—where they belong—trust me.  I live life alone.  You, on the other hand, are not destined for this.”  Snape stopped, putting his hand on Harry’s knee again.  Harry blushed, sniffling.  Snape, not seeing him blush, continued, “Your life does not end here.  What happened to your Gryffindor bravery?  Your courage that aided you in outsmarting a basilisk, no less?”  

 

Harry’s breath caught.  “I…I…”  He got lost in that gaze in front of him.  And the hand on his knee.  He couldn’t concentrate.  

 

Instead of answering, he flung his arms around the man in front of him.  He closed his eyes and sobbed, trembling in Snape’s arms. 

 

Snape was startled—this was the _second_ time Potter had linked arms around him today.  Harry cried into his cloak—but Snape didn’t particularly mind.  The young man sounded practically suicidal—and anything was better than that.

 

He rubbed Harry’s back, trying to be soothing.  It wasn’t as though he’d been embraced like this in…Merlin, how long?  He couldn’t even remember.

 

But Harry didn’t care.  He sighed of relief and sobbed into the man’s shoulder, trying to apologize.  “I…I’m sorry.”  He whispered.  “I got your cloak all wet.”

 

Snape held him in disbelief.  “Shh…it’s alright, Harry.  I’m here.”  He was surprised at his own words—how soft he sounded.

 

Harry loosened his grip, about to break away, but he couldn’t look at Snape in the eyes.  He hung his head low and pressed his forehead against the man’s shoulder. 

 

Snape looked down and petted Harry’s back.  When he turned to look, he accidentally bumped his nose into Potter’s head of hair.  His senses took over completely—he smelled that divine musk, perhaps clean sandalwood, coming from Harry.  He kept his nose there out of instinct.

 

Harry popped his eyes open as he felt Snape…smelling him?  _Strange…_ but he felt his heart racing.  _Very strange._

 

Snape realized what he was doing and lifted his head.  _Why in Merlin’s name did I do that?_   Snape scowled at himself mentally for actually enjoying how the man smelled.  Not only was this…Harry James Potter…but a _vampire._

 

But he felt Harry’s breath even out—and he’d stopped shaking. 

 

“Potter?”

 

Harry looked up at him, not realizing how close they were until he bumped his nose into Snape’s.  Harry yelped and Snape rolled his eyes, then rubbed his nose.  The two men slid a few inches away from each other.

 

“Sorry, Sir.”  Harry sighed.  _At least he can’t take house points from me anymore._

 

Snape looked at him, studying his movements.  “What happened to ‘Severus’?” 

 

Then Harry looked up at the man wearing a…smile?  Harry licked his lips.  He’d never seen someone smiling so beautifully before.  It wasn’t an open-mouthed-smile, but it was so much more than a sneer.  To think—that mouth had called him unspeakable names in the past—calling him things that stung him to the core.

 

How could that same mouth become so beautiful?  Even Snape’s—or, Severus’—eyes were gleaming a bit.  Harry was almost startled, but he was also extremely captivated. 

 

“Severus.”  His voice was all raspy.  He cleared his throat, “Erm…thank you.  You didn’t have to do that.  To…comfort me.”  _To hold me and smell my hair—_

 

Then the man _chuckled._   Harry really did flinch at that.  Severus just chuckled once, almost like a snort, but he seemed amused.  Harry laughed softly to himself and beamed a charming smile back at Severus.

 

“Do you…”  Harry began to ask, but he wasn’t sure how.  In between thinking of ways to kill himself, he’d also been strategizing ways to help Severus with this impossible task of curing him. 

 

Severus dropped his smile— _pity,_ Harry thought—and raised his eyebrow.  “Do I?”

 

Harry sighed.  “Do you want to…watch vampire movies?  With me?”  His heart was beating faster.

 

Snape was lost.  “Why would that be helpful?  Most, if not all, vampire movies are inaccurate.”

 

Harry nodded, “That’s the more reason to watch them.  Each one will have certain stereotypes about vampires—and I can tell you along the way which are true and which are a complete hoax.”

 

Snape considered this.

 

Harry spoke again, “We would at least be on the same page—after all, I don’t imagine you have much experience with vampires.  Do you?”

 

Severus thought about that.  “No, I have not.  That is…a very good place to start, Harry.  We will start tonight, if that suits you?”  Severus really didn’t think it was _that_ good of an idea, but this could be a way to boost Harry’s self-esteem.  He forced a half-smile.

 

Harry beamed, “Brilliant!”  He paused.  “Will there be popcorn?”

 

Snape rolled his eyes.  “Would it even taste good to you?”

 

Harry’s smile deflated, “Oh, right.  Sorry—old habits.”


End file.
